


The End of the Beginning

by violue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Gap Filler, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27669368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/pseuds/violue
Summary: Dean's just about ready to say goodbye.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 53
Kudos: 440





	The End of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I don't dip my toe in canon all that often, but I thought of a fanfiction gap in the final episode and suddenly I just had to write.
> 
> (Unbeta'd)

It’s hard, watching Sam sob, grieve, and stand alone in a corpse filled barn, but Dean does. After two minutes, though, Sam is straightening his back; face a mask of tear-plastered determination.

“The kids,” he mutters to himself. Dean’s pride for his baby brother swells.

Sam leaves the barn, and Dean follows. 

*

Dean follows Sam as he searches the nearby woods for hours, finally locating the terrified children underneath the very barn where Dean met his end. Smart, to hide so close, though if the vampires had lived… no, best not to think of that. 

Dean follows Sam as he drives the children to the local authorities, and again as Sam returns to the barn for a lengthy cleanup. 

It’s when Sam is digging the grave for the mass of beheaded vampires that Dean finally senses another presence.

“Bout time,” Dean says, feigning annoyance he doesn’t truly feel, “I was starting to think there were no reapers left.”

“Hello, Dean.”

One would think Dean wouldn’t be able to feel adrenaline as a ghost, but maybe that’s just residual humanity. He turns away from where Sam is chugging a bottle of water, and there is Castiel, standing just in front of the barn. Judging by Sam’s utter lack of reaction, Castiel is currently invisible to humans.

“You’re… are you alive?” Dean says, staring as his feet carry him toward the barn and the angel. The relief he feels is heady, and for a moment he feels like he might float away entirely.

“I’m free of The Empty, yes,” Castiel says gently.

“Jack?” Dean asks. Castiel nods. “Must be nice to have friends in high places,” Dean adds, a little bitterly.

“You are angry that we didn’t intervene,” Castiel says flatly.

“Not _angry,_ but… I mean the kid said he’d be hands off…”

“He said it was time for us to let you live your lives, even if that meant standing by if those lives came to a premature end. I honestly didn’t agree, but my kind are forbidden to meddle.”

“Angels?”

“Reapers.”

“Jack made you into a _reaper_?!” Dean barks, anger boiling through his spirit. 

“I asked him to. I’ve grown to love humans so dearly, I wanted to be part of welcoming them… home. There are still so many lost spirits wandering the Earth, trapped and confused after the time when the veil was broken, and when Chuck raised the dead. There is so much work to be done.”

“Sounds depressing.”

“It isn’t. It feels good, Dean, after all these eons I have found a true purpose. Not as a soldier or a pawn, but a _guide._ ”

Dean glances at Sam, who still looks determined, but increasingly exhausted. “Then… then I’m happy for you, Cas.”

Castiel beams, that same smile Dean saw before The Empty came to claim him. “I’m happy for me too. But… for all Jack suffered under Billie’s plans, he has opted to keep much of her rules in place. We cannot manifest to the living, and I could not interfere with your death.”

“Wait, Jack is _Death,_ too?”

Castiel nods. “For now. Most of the current reapers are incredibly new. Too new to take on the mantle of Death. Later, Jack will choose one of us, if we are willing. That reaper will be slain and preside over Death.”

Dean looks Castiel over, trying to imagine him in all black, scythe by his side. “Will it be you?”

“I would rather continue my work as a reaper,” Castiel says, looking very sure of himself.

“So… you’re here to reap me, then?” Dean says, looking at Sam once again. He supposes he can’t follow Sam forever, not without turning into some broken, crazed specter. And if it had to be anyone ushering Dean to the other side… well Dean can’t think of a better choice than Castiel. 

“If you’ll let me.”

“Can we wait? Just until… until the pyre.”

Castiel arches an eyebrow. “If you intend to attach to an object to tether you…”

“I don’t have to do that, I’m tethered to Sam.”

Castiel squints his eyes, and Dean is nearly knocked on his ass by the wave of nostalgia it brings as the reaper looks _through_ him rather than at him. After a moment, Castiel’s face returns to normal. “So you are.”

“I’ll go with you, though. When Sam gives me my good ol’ hunter’s funeral.” 

Castiel nods. After a moment, he speaks again, softly. “I am truly sorry, Dean.”

“For what?”

“You were finally free of Chuck’s designs, at long last… only to meet your end here.”

Dean shrugs and offers Castiel a smile. “I’m still free, Cas.”

*

Castiel returns hours later, when Sam is putting together Dean’s pyre. 

Dean is crouched by his linen-wrapped body, feeling a mixture of fascination and mourning. Maybe he does, just a little, wish he could have gotten to live longer. Maybe he would have kept hunting until his body refused to comply, or maybe he’d have found a way to have his dream bar, or maybe he would have had a family.

Then again, maybe he would have slipped on ice and cracked his head open when winter came this year. 

“I’ve died so many times,” Dean says to Castiel once they’re standing side by side. “Hundreds of times, according to Sam, but that was Gabriel being… Gabriel.”

“I’ve died quite a few times myself,” Castiel says. 

Dean watches Sam drag over yet another young, felled tree. Kid’s going all out building this thing, even though he’s been awake for over a day now. “It’s hard to leave him for good. Last time we were both dead, our Heavens were connected. Will it be like that again? When he passes?”

Castiel is silent for a long moment, so long that Dean starts to fear he’s about to learn he won’t be going upstairs, but downstairs... but when Dean looks at Castiel he’s surprised to see an almost coy smile on his face. He relaxes, knowing with his entire being that Castiel wouldn’t smile like that if Dean was on the express train to Hell.

“You will see Sam again, I promise.”

“And we’ll relive our greatest hits together, huh?”

Castiel’s smile grows. “Something like that.” 

“Meaning…?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Dean can feel his soul gearing up to leave. Knowing he’ll see Sammy again, that’s just about all he needed. Almost. Dean finds himself fidgeting. A ghost, fidgeting. Ridiculous. “What about… what about you? Will I see you again after this?” 

“If you’d like. There are no rules barring me from visiting.”

“I would. I would like that. I feel like there’s some stuff we ought to talk about.”

Here, Castiel wilts, posture deflating slightly as he awkwardly shifts a few inches away from Dean. An emissary for Death itself, shying away in embarrassment. 

“There’s no need to—”

Maybe they’ll talk about it now. “Sometimes I have trouble sorting out love. Not knowing if I love someone as a friend, a parental figure, a romantic partner, a brother, a son. It all gets sort of mashed and confused, like putting a bunch of flavors of ice cream together in a smoothie.” Dean glances at Castiel, unsurprised to see he looks completely baffled. “But together all the flavors taste like love, so that’s what matters. I loved my family and my found family. I loved the many friends I made and lost along the way. I loved you, Cas.”

Dean could swear time is slowing down, now. Sam in the corner of his vision seems to be moving at an eighth of his normal speed. Is Castiel doing that?

“You told me you loved me and that you couldn’t have me, and then you just _left,_ forever swallowed up by The Empty before my brain had a chance to sort through it. I was so warmed to know how you felt, and so, so _angry_ that you waited until we were completely out of time to say it. And that you just… assumed I had nothing to reciprocate with. Like I’d never spent nights praying to you and missing you. Like I’d never wondered what it would be like to kiss you or hold you for hours. Like the times I had you and Sammy in my car with me weren’t the times I felt the most complete.”

“Dean...” Castiel says, voice soft and broken.

“All I’m saying...” Dean sighs, moving closer to Castiel so he can take one hand in his. “All I’m saying is, you know me better than almost anyone, Cas, but that doesn’t mean you know my every waking thought. And I wish… I wish you hadn’t assumed you couldn’t… _have_ me. Friend, partner, brother, savior, lover. A piece of my _soul,_ if you wanted.”

Vaguely, Dean is aware that his spirit has gone from wearing the clothes he died in, to wearing the clothes he last saw Castiel in, bloody handprint still gripping his shoulder. 

Castiel’s eyes are full of both tears and terror. “I didn’t… I don’t need you to reciprocate.”

Dean moves fully into Castiel’s space. “Well, I do, Cas. May not always read that way for you, or for me, but… never assume you aren’t taking up major real estate in my heart.” He kisses away the tears on the angel-turned-reaper’s cheeks, then down to his lips. Just once, softly. 

Castiel seems too shocked to do anything back, but Dean notes that time has started moving normally again. Sam is dragging Dean’s body to the pyre. It’s nearly time to go. 

“I don’t know if you remember,” Dean says playfully, feeling joyful despite the truly bleak scene of his lonely funeral around him, “but this works better if both parties are participating.”

Castiel makes some gentle, confused sound and then he’s kissing Dean in return. 

There’s tragedy in this moment, that they could have had this in life and never did, but Dean’s at peace with it. Castiel will find him again in Heaven, and together they can figure out some afterlife groove.

There’s a click of a zippo, and Dean looks at Sam one last time. “I won’t be far,” he promises. Sam drops the zippo, and Dean’s body ignites. He feels the tug of the beyond calling, demanding.

Dean turns back to his reaper. He can see the flames growing on his spectral form reflected in Castiel’s eyes. He truly feels ready.

“One for the road?” He says with a grin. Castiel brings their lips together again, and Dean lets his spectral form dissolve, ready to see what surprises the afterlife has in store.

**Author's Note:**

> We are transformative writers, we are creators. If we're not satisfied, we'll fix it ourselves.


End file.
